Final
by EEstelle
Summary: 'In his final moments, Severus Snape did not open his mouth and speak the words he should have voiced long ago. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the boy who lived, and let the seconds lull him into a death he'd waited too many years to meet.' One-shot. What happened to Snape in the moments after he died? A goodbye to Lily, a trip to King's Cross, and a meeting with a writer.
_Final_

 **A/N: Hello, friendly reader! I want to start by briefly saying that with the very slight chance that anyone who's read my other pieces is reading this, I am so, so sorry for not posting in... well, forever. I've been working and in school, and over the past three months I have become the last person on earth to discover both The Lord of the Rings and Star Wars *face palm*. (Where have you been all my life?!) I hope I'll be able to post fairly soon though. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy this one shot! Comments are always appreciated, as well as any suggestions.**

 **Also, this is dedicated to my dearest Lyn Harkeran who appears in this story. Luff your guts, Bee, and thank you for being the BEST! *clinks charm necklace* XD**

 **Enjoy, and thank you!**

 **XXX**

" _You have your mother's eyes,"_ he whispered, his deep voice choked as the gaping holes at his neck leeched his breath away. The light was fading now, at least what little was left of it in the boarded up shack, and the muted battlecries of vain death slowed to the stunted rhythm of his failing heart. With each palpitation, his pulse softened in his veins, escaping in poisonous drafts that rendered his sallow skin paler than it had ever been. His sharp, ebony orbs faded to a dull, charcoal grey as he stared into the meadowy depths of Harry Potter's eyes- Lily's eyes. His head spun and his stomach churned as the scent of iron overpowered him, filling him with the despair that he would never live to see it finished; that Lily had died to protect the one that he condemned in his final moments. He wanted to say more, to explain everything that he had been too much of a coward to admit, to somehow redeem himself from the unforgivable wrongs he'd spent a lifetime committing. He wanted to say he was sorry, as hopeless as it was.

But as with his every good intention, it was never to be. In his final moments, Severus Snape did not open his mouth and speak the words he should have voiced long ago. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the boy who lived, and let the seconds lull him into a death he'd waited too many years to meet.

 **XXX**

When the darkness fell, he assumed he'd enter the eternal abyss. Yet, his footsteps did not carry him there. As swiftly as it came, the mist vanished, depleting beneath a rising azure sky. The grassy earth sprung beneath his measured gate, and powdered clouds wafted along in the distance. A spring breeze ruffled his suddenly clean raven hair, and he listened uncomprehendingly to a giggling sound, familiar in ways he could not yet place.

Across the vivid expanse, he turned to find the source of the noise dancing in the field before a white country house. Her robes were fanned out in an array around her twirling frame, and her gentle hands were flung to the heavens. Her red hair flickered beneath the amber waves of sunlight, and her mouth lifted in an infinite smile. For an instant he watched her, disbelief catching him in his tracks. She slowed suddenly, and turned to face him. Her smile reached her glittering green eyes.

"Sev." She greeted him as if had not been forever that they had been apart, as if time and death had not changed the bond they had formed as children. He ran toward her, his cloak flapping behind him as he raced to hold her, to see that she was real. A pace away, and she stopped him with her hand, resting it on his arm an armslength away.

"Lily." His voice was raw, despite the fact that he was no longer subject to mortality, and the pent up emotions he'd hidden for decades seeped into her uttered name. She reached up and softly touched his cheek before he could come any closer.

"Thank you, Severus. You have done more for me than I ever could have asked for. You protected Harry. For that I will always be grateful."

"But he is dead! He is dead; do you not see? Voldemort must kill him! You died to save him, and I have failed you. I've condemned him as surely as if I murdered him myself." The broken man's face fell as he stared at his beautiful Lily, torn between joy at her presence and agony at his inadequacy.

"I know that, Sev," she looked up at him sadly. "But he will not have died in vain."

"Please," he pleaded, desperate and confused. "What now? Is there nothing we can do? Our world is dying! _I've_ sent him like a pig to slaughter…"

"Oh, Severus…"

"Where is Dumbledore? There must be a way, there must. Our world is dying."

"Yes, our world is dying," she interjected finally. "But don't _you_ see? We are dead already."

Tears formed in his obsidian eyes, and he crossed his arms in a pose of both frustration and self protection. For a minute he said nothing, closing his eyes and wishing momentarily that death had been empty. That is, until he felt Lily's comforting arms wrap him in a chaste hug.

"Is this where I will spend eternity? Is this how it ends?" He asked, crying on her shoulder as he had not since she was nothing more than a lifeless doll on the dusted floor of a crumbling home. She pulled away after a second, and he wiped his eyes just in time to watch James Potter emerge from the house and make his way to stand behind his wife.

"You will go on," she said gently, reaching her hand to her shoulder where her husband's hand was resting. Snape pushed away the piercing pain that settled beneath his ribcage.

"On?"

"On."

He gazed one last time into her majestic soul, as deep regret filled his aching heart. In her meadowy eyes, an apology was written.

The scene blurred and faded like washed-out ink.

 **XXX**

The darkness was back, and the scent of iron, but the sharp wounds at his neck ached with a dull throb rather than a venomous bite. He squinted his eyes open and the effect was blinding. The purest white light he had ever known seeped into his being, and he had to blink a few times before allowing it to fully pour in. As he adjusted to the glow, the light settled warmly within him, and the pain at his throat dissipated. On the smooth tiles where his cheek lay, he watched as a crimson drop of what could only have been his own blood absorbed into a clear droplet of water, and then disappeared altogether. All was silent.

With a slender finger, he reached up to feel his punctured neck, but found that the wounds had closed. Not even the ridge or valley of a scar emerged beneath his fingertips. Propping himself on his elbows, he rose to a sitting and then standing position. As he stood, he began to hear the voices. Then the clattering and the footsteps. And finally, he heard the shrill whistling of a train.

He could smell the smoke of burning coal and imagined the flavor of pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes which he associated with long rides in the early autumn days of his childhood. The white mass that moments ago foamed before his gaze solidified into a swirling crowd of travelers and trolley men, gathered on a steel platform to board the continuous train. People of all ages, races, and sizes, bearing all different features and carrying the stories of all different backgrounds converged on the locomotive in lines of organized chaos. It was the same, and yet nothing like any station he remembered. Even forgetting the fact that the brick walls, arched ceilings, and smooth floors were all far cleaner than he deemed possible.

Stranger than those already present, however, were the ones arriving. Along the floor at periodic intervals, a body would show up, prostrate and seemingly unconscious. Some were blue faced, others riddled with horrific injuries, and some even in multiple pieces. Many did not show any outward signs of what could only be the marks of their various deaths. Within a few minutes, each of them healed and rose, before making their way to who knows where. But all of them seemed to know what to do and where to go. None of them stood like statues as he did, watching as the other dead traversed beyond the veil.

It was then that he realized that he recognized some of them. Scampering over to his left, an odd boy typically seen through the lens of a camera revealed himself as Colin Creevey, a young Hogwarts' student. To the right and leaning against a beam, a seventh year student, Lavender Brown. A handful of other students sat in a line along a bench, and a few of his fellow professors weaved in and out of view. For a moment, he saw Nymphadora Tonks, nestling her head into Remus Lupin's shoulder. He'd heard about their son, and a part of him, brought out by his memory of Lily, felt pity for them and for the child that would grow up without his parents. He saw a figure running down the length of the hall, Fred Weasley, one of the twins who'd caused plenty of trouble in school, but who had gained some small amount of respect after terrifying Dolores Umbridge. It felt unnatural to see him without his brother. From the way he kept looking over his shoulder, Fred felt it too. Snape also saw Death Eaters, but he pushed the images away. He did not want to know what would become of them.

But all seemed to have someone to go to, someone waiting for them. An elderly husband and wife stood there, a child and a parent there, a young couple and a middle aged woman straight ahead. Some sat in pairs, some stood in groups, and all hugged and laughed and smiled to see the lost ones returned to their arms. Hand in hand in hand, they boarded and waved to the lives they'd permanently left behind.

Alone in a room full of people, Severus knew that some things never change. Even in death, he was the outcast, the only soul frozen in memory and never able to truly breathe.

"So this is how it ends, then," he drawled quietly to himself, donning his thick skin and calloused air. But he was tired of bitterness, of hollowness. He was tired of a cursed life, a life of servitude, a half-life, if it could even be called that. From the moment of his birth, he'd been forsaken. From the mistake of his childhood, he had condemned himself to an eternity of atonement, that continued to gift him with solitude, and misery, and the knowledge that no matter what he did, he would never forgive himself enough to let it go.

"Severus? Severus Snape?"

Upon hearing the voice behind him, he swiveled around abruptly, his cloak snapping with the sudden movement. Already he was nose to nose with the woman, and it unnerved him that she'd been able to sneak up on him. Then again, he was fairly absorbed in his thoughts, and the room was filled with echoes.

The young lady was of average height, fairly shorter than himself and bearing caramel-colored skin and dark, curly hair. Her chocolate eyes peered up at him warmly, and her genuine smile was rather unexpected. She wasn't wearing a robe, but muggle clothing, and she carried a red and black shoulder bag from which he could just see a notebook with a pen clipped in. In her hand, she carried a large gas station cup filled with a yellowish beverage. As he stepped away from her in slight discomfort over her proximity, she took a sip from the straw and went back to smiling.

Noting the look on his face, she spontaneously burst out laughing. His eyebrows furrowed even deeper, and she choked back any further chortles in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, Sevy. I forgot how suspicious you can be," she said partially to herself. "I'm Lyn Harkeran, and can I just say I can't believe I get to meet you!"

"I have no _idea_ who you think I am, Miss Harkeran, and I would be _most_ curious to learn how you've discovered my name. However, I would appreciate it if you would _sit down._ "

Unpurposefully, she'd again bridged the gap between them and she quickly stepped back when she noticed him reaching into his full sleeves to protract his wand, no doubt. Her giddiness was getting the better of her, and she really hadn't planned on alienating him so soon.

" _Always_ ," she smirked, planting herself on a bench a few feet away. Though she knew he wouldn't get the joke, the irony of it almost sent her into another wave of giggles at the confusion written on his brow.

After a second, he tentatively sat on the other side of the bench. "Proceed." The drawl was going to kill her.

Though, on second thought, that was a bit insensitive considering that he was dead. With that thought, her face fell and all thoughts of hilarity vanished from her mind.

"You don't have anyone here for you, do you?" She said soberly. He looked at her sideways, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. When he didn't answer, she turned to look out over the crowd, which would thin for a moment as passengers got on the train, before arriving souls packed the place again.

She sighed. Death was busy today. But no one seemed to be looking for Snape. He'd been standing by himself for a full ten minutes. She tried to think of a way to explain this to him, as he didn't seem to have any idea what was going on.

"Most of these people have family waiting for them, to take them on. I have no idea where it goes, but that train came in a while ago with most of these family members and friends, and most of them have already reboarded with their loved ones who just passed away. They look pretty happy, don't they?" She tried. She glanced at the wizard, but his face was hard and cold. She'd already known before coming that she'd have a difficult time getting through to the stoic man. She kept talking.

"In the books, Harry goes to King's Cross when…" she paused, not sure how much of it she should be allowed to tell him. Then again, he was dead. It wasn't like telling him would change anything now. "...when he's cursed by Voldemort. It's empty then, and he can't see the train. But that's only because he's not entirely dead. Harry lives, Severus. Voldemort's soul fragment is sent to this place to die, and Harry lives. You protected him, Sevy," her voice softened to almost a whisper. "Lily didn't die in vain."

She didn't know how he would take so much information all at once, and she was surprised that the thing that seemed the most cringeworthy to him was her use of "Sevy." When she said Harry's name, a deep sadness settled further into his dark eyes, but they flashed alarmingly, disbelievingly, when she revealed that Harry would live. At the mention of Lily, his cold composure completely broke. Unfortunately, it broke into pure, livid anger.

He was on his feet in an instant, and rage emanated from him in visible drafts.

"I do not know who you are, or where you have learned of this, Miss Harkeran, but I have had _enough_ of brutal lies. I would advise you to _hold your tongue_ if you wish to keep it, and leave me in _peace_." His jaw was set, and uncaring of where it would lead him, he turned to march away. When he felt a hand on his arm, he rounded on the woman so volatilely that she was surprised she didn't wither under the heat of his very gaze.

"It's true, Severus Snape," she said boldly, begging him to accept it, staring into his eyes. "You're a hero, and you have sacrificed all. When will you forgive yourself? When will you allow yourself the chance to live?"

The malice washed away, little by little, like dust beneath the rain. Salted tears pooled within his sockets, but did not pour down his face. Before either knew what was happening, Lyn had wrapped him in a tight hug, and her soothing words just reached his ears.

"You deserve to be happy, Sev. And whatever you do next, I'm here to take you home."

After a minute, she pulled away gently and shocked him yet again by wiping a single stray tear from his pale cheek. She took his arm and coaxed him onto the bench once more while he looked on in stunned silence. This time when she spoke, he met her gaze calmly.

"I'm a writer, Snape, and in my world, I've read a series of books about your world, the wizarding world. You're in it, which is why I knew who you were. If you want to, you can take the train, and I have no idea, like I've said, where it will take you. You can go on. But you have another option." He'd been nodding up to this point, thoughtfully. His gaze intensified as she paused, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead. "I can write you a different story. You can come to my world, and I can create a different life for you. I know you love Lily, but I can't do anything to change that. What I _can_ do is give you a second chance. Whatever you choose, I just want you to be happy." Having said her piece, she took another breath to calm her frantic heartbeat. She was honestly proud of herself for getting this far without losing her nerve.

As Snape looked upon this woman, absorbing the concern in her eyes and the hope radiating from her, he couldn't believe this strange turn of events. In all honesty, he didn't believe it, but then, what about death was believable? He'd had no idea what to expect. All he knew was that, since Lily, he had never felt that anyone cared for him or his well being. He was always the loner, the pawn, the sacrifice. He didn't know how to accept kindness anymore. He wasn't even entirely sure in that moment that he recognized it.

"This isn't how it ends, Sevy."

All of his fear drained away at those last words. All of his indecision, all of his anger, all of his pain melted away entirely, and this time, he felt that they would not find a way back. Only two emotions remained. Irritation, that the woman continued to call him Sevy. And a deep, loving hope for a woman he did not know, but might have known for a lifetime.

"Thank you, Miss Harkeran."

"Please, call me Lyn. _Obviously_." She burst into giggles, but he ignored it and tentatively offered her his arm. She took it, a magnificent smile growing on her face as she looked up to the brave man beside her.

"Next stop, home. I think I've got the perfect beginning for your new story…"


End file.
